


Cannonball

by LadyFogg



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Flirting, Language, Minor Violence, Romance, Violence, commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 08:44:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11848044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFogg/pseuds/LadyFogg
Summary: You and Dean spend some time together while you’re working on a case, and along the way discuss the state of your relationship.





	Cannonball

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was actually commissioned. The request was for a romantic reader insert between Dean and a plus-sized, tall, dark-skinned reader. Enjoy!
> 
> Song fic: https://open.spotify.com/track/42QYgZHx9YDJ8iEgsEXTH2

Crouched, and silently waiting, you realize there’s one thing you really hate about being a hunter: the waiting. Always with the waiting. You are starting to get bored, and you sigh heavily, resting your head against the wall behind you. 

“I don’t think it’s coming,” you say.

Dean doesn’t even look your way. “It will,” he says. 

“You sure about that?” you ask, shifting the gun on your lap. “Because we’ve been here for hours and haven’t seen any evidence that this place is really haunted.”

It’s Dean’s turn to sigh, and his clenched jaw relaxes as he leans back, copying you. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” he admits. “But we’ve been here so long, I don’t want it to be a total waste of time.”

“So your solution is to wait even  _ longer? _ ” you ask. “You make no sense, Winchester.” 

“Hey, when you asked me to train you, you agreed to listen to me,” Dean says, rolling his head to the side to finally meet your gaze. “And I say we wait this out. Just on the off chance there is something here.”

You smirk, lowering yourself so you’re sitting completely on the floor next to him. “If you wanted to spend more time alone with me, you just had to ask,” you tease. “Though, making up a job is kind of cute.”

Dean rolls his eyes, but when he smiles, it’s filled with affection. “I wouldn’t make a flimsy excuse,” he says. “I’d ask you right out.” His attention returns to your surroundings.

“Why haven’t you then?” you ask.

Glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, Dean smirks. Before he can say anything, there’s a loud thud from somewhere in the building, and you both freeze. Gripping your gun tightly, you scan the area looking for signs of the paranormal. Next to you, Dean does the same thing, slowly getting to his feet. He raises his gun and points it at the door, waiting. Nothing happens. Your ears strain to hear something else, but all is quiet. As silently as possible, you also get to your feet, moving to stand next to Dean. 

“Stay here,” he says in a hushed voice, taking a careful step forward. 

“I’m coming with,” you whisper back, right behind him. 

He makes a face but knows better than to argue. You’d win, just like you always do. “Fine, just stay behind me,” he orders. 

“Can do. It’s a great view,” you smirk.

Dean smirks, before squaring his shoulders and raising his gun. You let him get a few paces ahead, before lifting your own weapon and following. Still silent, you both move through the abandoned building, pausing every now and then to listen. The rooms you pass are empty, their doors ajar or missing completely, except for the last room on the right. Dean motions towards it. You nod and lift your gun, ready and waiting. Dean creeps forward and pauses by the door. Glancing at you to make sure you're ready, he grips his gun tightly and kicks the door open.

“Oh, for the love of—” Dean begins, stepping into the room.

He's cut off by the sound of several guns cocking. “Looks like we got one, boys,” an unfamiliar male voice says.

“And you are?” Dean asks. 

You press yourself against the wall, on the off chance they peek through the doorway. “We’re the ones who set the trap for you hunters,” another voice says. “Now, drop your gun.”

You bite back a laugh. These idiots are seriously going to try to rob Dean Winchester and you cannot wait to see how this turns out. 

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” Dean says. There’s the crack of a gunshot and part of the wall next to you explodes, sending plaster in your face. Your heart nearly stops, until you hear Dean swear. It seems like it was just a warning.

“Drop your gun and empty your pockets,” the first man orders.

There’s a thud as Dean does as he commands this time, and then shuffling as the men move to grab him. “You really don’t want to be doing this,” Dean warns.

“Oh? Why’s that? You gonna try and take the three of us on?” the second man laughs. 

“No...but she will.”

You burst into the room and swing your gun into the face of the nearest guy you see. Lucky for you, he’s not anticipating the tall, curvy, dark-skinned woman brandishing a shotgun and has no time to duck. With a yell, you break his nose, sending blood spewing down his mouth and chin. You swing around to hit the next one, but he does anticipate your attack and catches the gun midair. Undeterred, you slam your body against him, pinning him to the wall. You jam the gun across his throat and hold him there as he gasps for breath, trying to fight you and failing miserably. Dean takes advantage of their surprise, scooping his gun back up and repeating your first attack on the leader standing right in front of him, catching him in the mouth. Blood pours from his split lip as he stands there in shock. The one you knocked down remains curled on the floor,  nursing his face.

“As I was saying,” Dean pants. “Now, you’re going to answer my questions, starting with, what the hell is going on here?”

“Nothing,” the man croaks. “There’s no ghost or supernatural crap.”

“So, what? You put those rumors out and then rob whoever shows up?” Dean asks. 

The man nods hurriedly. Dean looks to you and you turn to the man you currently have pinned against the wall. With a condescending smile you say, “Empty your pockets, please and thank you.”

The guy’s eyes widen and Dean smirks. “You heard the lady,” he says, looking at the leader. “Empty your pockets.” 

They have a good amount of money on them, which leads you to believe you aren't their first targets of the night. You and Dean manage to gather their cash before slowly moving backwards towards the door, guns still trained on the attackers. You can see their eyes flicker to their weapons on the floor, and you and Dean share a quick glance. As soon as you leave they’ll be after you.

“Thoughts?” you ask out of the corner of your mouth. 

“Run,” Dean urges. 

The two of you take off running through the abandoned warehouse. The gang’s footsteps are not that far behind and several times you and Dean duck as bullets are fired your way. Outside, you don’t even get to savor the cool night air. Dean slides across the hood of the Impala, towards the driver’s side while you fling open the passenger door. You just manage to climb in and slam it behind you when the gang bursts through the front doors of the building. Dean starts the car and you have to duck again as they shoot in your direction. 

“They better not fucking hit Baby,” Dean growls. 

“Drive now, examine car later!” you order even as he puts the car in drive. 

Dean slams on the accelerator and the Impala takes off across the parking lot, kicking up dust in its wake. Thankfully, the thugs don’t seem to have any vehicles close at hand and you watch them shrink in the distance. After several long minutes of tense silence, you finally allow yourself a sigh of relief and double-check the rearview mirror to make sure. The road behind you is dark and empty.

“How we lookin’?” Dean asks, eyes darting between the mirror and the road in front of him. He begins to slow to a less intense speed.

“We’re good,” you assure him. There's a pause before you add, “Well, that explains the lack of supernatural evidence.”

Dean snorts, shaking his head. “Ridiculous,” he says. “We’ll talk to Sammy when we get back, see if he can track down his source. Chances are they’re working with those idiots back there. We don’t want anyone else falling for their trap.”

“Already on it,” you tell him, pulling out your phone to text the other Winchester. “In the meantime, dinner? We have plenty of cash.”

Dean smirks slightly, casting you a look out of the corner of his eye. “Works for me,” he says, settling in his seat now that the danger is gone. “But, just to be safe, let’s hit the next town over. Don’t want to run into our friends again.”

The rest of the ride is filled with idle chit-chat and whatever horrible music is on the radio. You barely pay attention to the tunes however, your mind replaying the talk you and Dean had before you were robbed. You have never been shy about your feelings for the older Winchester brother. And for the most part, he returned your flirting with his own. To the point where Sam begged you two to just stop, which of course only made you want to do it more. But despite all the smiles and longing looks, nothing has become of it. You’re not sure why, but you intend to find out. 

The bar Dean finds is crowded, which is a blessing and a curse. For one, no one notices you as you try to merge through the crowd to an empty table in the back. However, that means you can barely hear each other over the noise. At one point, you lose Dean as a large group of people come between you. Sighing with frustration, you try to see over them but then a hand grabs yours and Dean’s pulling you to the table you spotted earlier. 

“No one will pay attention to us in here that’s for sure,” you say as you squeeze into the seat next to him. With full tables on either side, you don’t have much elbow room so you and Dean are practically in each other’s laps. 

After awkwardly yelling over the noise to the waitress, you and Dean slump back in your seats, exhausted. “That was a colossal waste of time,” Dean grumbles, crossing his arms. 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I think some good came out of it.” Dean raises his eyebrows questioningly and you grin, leaning forward to close what little space is between you. “We got to spend time together, alone.”

Chuckling, Dean pats your arm affectionately and then straightens himself in his seat when two ice cold beers are put down in front of you. He picks his up and you follow suit, toasting each other before taking a long sip. 

“So, back to our conversation from earlier,” you say. “Why hasn’t anything happened between us?”

Dean chokes a little on his beer before swallowing, which sends him into a small coughing fit. Rolling your eyes, you slap him on the back a couple times until he stops, his face red but his mouth turned up into grin. “Let’s see,” he pretends to think, once the coughing subsides. “Why haven’t you and I gotten together...that’s a tough one.”

You give him a doubtful look. “Is it though?” you ask. “Seems pretty straightforward.”

“Is this one of those questions that you ask me, but already have an answer for?” Dean counters. 

“Maybe,” you reply cheekily. “I at least have my reasons. I still want yours though.”

Dean mulls over his thoughts, taking another sip of beer as he studies you through hooded eyes. You patiently, keeping an amused smirk on your face to mask the fact that your stomach is currently during somersaults. It’s not like your attraction to Dean has been a secret over the last few months. You tend to be very clear that you’re interested and available. If he isn’t, well that’s just fine. You’d be disappointed, but you’ll get over it. 

The thing is, you  _ do  _ think he’s interested. There have been several times where you were sure something was going to happen, but then circumstances dictated otherwise. Whatever his answer, you didn’t pose the question to put him on the spot. You genuinely want to know. 

“I wish I had a good one for you,” Dean finally says. “It’s not like it’s just one reason. The main one is, there just hasn’t been any time.”

You laugh, because he’s not entirely wrong. Ever since you started working with the Winchesters, it’s been one job after another, a different city every week. Between being on the road, and hunting, there really hasn’t been much time for anything else. There had been opportunities however, ones where you had made yourself available, Dean meeting you most of the way, but not all. 

“Also, the mood tends to get killed when your brother is sleeping in the next bed,” Dean adds. 

“Damn it, Sam,” you mutter, cursing the younger brother who isn’t around to defend himself. “Are those the only reasons?”

Dean studies you for a moment, placing with his beer bottle. “Hunters getting involved with each other can get...messy,” he says. 

“And I take it you don’t mean in the fun way,” you say. 

Dean laughs. “Well, yeah I guess it could be in the fun way,” he says with a shrug. “But no, that’s not what I meant.”

You consider his words, trailing your fingers across the condensation on your beer. After a moment you push it to the side and lean in all the way, so you’re taking up as much of Dean’s personal space as you can. He doesn’t move, only smiles softly, gaze flickering to you lips. You’re so close you could kiss him if you wanted to. And you really want to. 

“What if I want to get messy?” you ask in a low voice. 

Dean’s smile twists into a smirk and he reaches out, placing a hand on your cheek. “Trust me, the feeling’s mutual.” 

You smile, however the moment is interrupted by the arrival of your food, and like that, the tension between you is lost. Yet again. 

Dean gives your a cheek a gentle pat and pulls away, reaching for the delicious looking burger on the plate in front of him. “Come on, let’s eat,” he says. “I’m starving and want to get back to the hotel. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“Where are we headed next?” you ask, digging into your own food. 

“Sammy has a few reports of a possible vampire attack down south,” Dean says. “Seems like it has more evidence behind it than this job did.”

“How about, we ditch that job and find a beach somewhere,” you counter. “We’ve been working non-stop for months. We could use a break.” Dean gives you a look and you wave him off before he can say anything.  “Yeah, yeah, I know. Gotta fight evil and all the shit.”

You’re far hungrier than you realize and once you both start eating, talking pretty much stops. It’s getting harder to hear each other anyways, with the loud bar patrons only getting louder as they get drunker. After you’ve finished, Dean pays the bill and the two of you head back to the Impala. 

The motel isn’t very far, and you’re actually excited to get some rest. It’s been a long day. However, as you sit in silence, you realize that the tension between you and Dean in the bar has returned. Several times you catch him looking at you out of the corner of his eye. An idea starts to form and you shove your hands into your pockets, fingers curling around the cash you took from the would-be-robbers. 

Pulling into a parking space, Dean is still silent as he puts the car in park and turns it off. Both of you sit there for a moment in silence, and you feel like Dean wants to say something. In the end, you don’t give him the chance. You get out of the car and after a second, he follows. The room feels miles away, even though it’s only a couple of steps. As you draw closer however, for the second time that evening you feel a hand on yours. 

Curious, you stop and look back at Dean. He wears a determined expression, and before you can ask him what’s wrong, he steps closer, putting his hand on your cheek just like he did at the bar. When he draws you forward, you don’t hesitate, placing a hand on his waist and meeting him halfway, crushing your lips to his. The results are instantaneous. Heat courses through your body at an alarming rate and your heart begins to beat wildly. He steps in closer, deepening the kiss as he feels your body lean into his. Months of wanting and fantasizing come rushing to the front of your mind and you grip him tight, never wanting to let go. Not now. Possibly not ever. 

Unfortunately, the need to breath supersedes the desire to keep kissing Dean, and you reluctantly draw away. Your lips are damp and you’re panting heavily, unable to stop your pleased grin. Dean wears a matching one, hand still cupping your cheek as his eyes roam your face, committing your expression to memory. 

“No more excuses,” he promises. 

“Good,” you say. 

Dean gives you another quick peck, before pulling away. 

Sam is hard at work on his laptop, the remains of a half-eaten sandwich on a plate off to the side. He looks up when you enter. “Glad you guys are okay,” he says. “I haven’t been able to reach my contact, which all but means he was aware of the set up. I’m really sorry about all this.”

“Don’t worry about,” Dean waves him off. “You had no way of knowing it was a trap.”

As Dean throws himself onto one of the twin beds, you stifle a fake yawn. “You know,” You try to be as nonchalant as possible, “it’s been a long day. And we got some extra cash from those idiots. I think I’m going to get my own room. The couch doesn’t seem very comfortable tonight.”

“You can have my bed,” Sam offers. 

“Nah, that’s okay,” you tell him. “Besides, I think I need some  _ alone  _ time _. _ ”

Sam is too busy looking at you to see Dean’s grin return with a vengeance. It’s clear the older Winchester knows exactly what you’re trying to do. “Sounds like a great idea,” Dean says with a nod. 

Pleased with yourself, you turn and leave the room. “Have a good night, boys,” you say over your shoulder. 

You’re halfway to the manager’s office when your phone vibrates. 

_ Text me the room number. I’ll be there as soon as he falls asleep. _

Your heart flutters and you hurriedly type back:  _ Can’t wait.  _  
  



End file.
